


A Crime of Obsession

by CatWingsAthena



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Bisexual Samantha Cage, But it's there so I didn't tag it gen, But not in a sexual way - Freeform, Coming Out, Creepy Murdoc (MacGyver TV 2016), Crossover, Cryptography, Episode: s02e04 X-Ray + Penny, F/F, Fix-It, Hurt Angus Macgyver (Macgyver 2016), Lesbian Emily Prentiss, Protective Jack Dalton (MacGyver 2016), Spoilers for seasons 6 and 7 of CM, The romance isn't the focus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 10:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19810213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatWingsAthena/pseuds/CatWingsAthena
Summary: When Mac is kidnapped and the Phoenix can't find him, Matty decides to call in the big guns.Namely, the BAU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everybody! First things first: this is not compliant with CM canon. Like, at all. I'm only up to season 8, and I hear the cast gets shuffled around by season 12 (which is where they canonically should be in 2017, I think) and I really wanted these specific people to be the ones in my fic. So, imagine the season 7 BAU, transplanted to 2017.
> 
> Second: I've tried to set it up so you can come here from either fandom and make sense of this story, but you'll probably have more fun if you're here from MacGyver, because this fic is very much focused on that show's universe. That having been said, if you're here from CM and want to give this a go, I certainly won't stop you :)
> 
> Third: this chapter contains references to drugging and needles. I think that's it. Hope you enjoy!

**AARON HOTCHNER’S OFFICE**

Hotch was sitting at his desk, doing paperwork, when the phone rang.

His cell phone, specifically. The caller ID said _Matilda Webber_.

Hotch raised one eyebrow. He hadn’t heard from Matilda Webber in—a very long time.

He picked up. “Hotchner.”

The voice on the other end was steel. “I don’t have time to play power games with you, so I won’t. I’m currently working as the director of a covert US intelligence agency. One of my agents has been kidnapped. I need your team to help us find him and bring his assailant into custody.”

Hotch was quiet for a split second. “Can you send a case file?”

“Perhaps I haven’t made myself clear. I need your team on this _now_. All of them—we need all the help we can get on this one. I’ll send directions when you get to Los Angeles. I’m authorizing a temporary adjustment of security clearance for you and your agents so you can come to headquarters. I’ll send you the information to review on the plane.”

Hotch took a deep breath. “I’ll need you to run this through the proper channels—”

“ _Screw_ the proper channels. My agent is in serious danger. I don’t need to remind you what that feels like.”

Hotch shut his eyes for a moment. “Can you tell me _anything_ about what I’m bringing my team into?”

“Suspect 218.”

“Excuse me?”

“The man who has my agent is suspect 218—though he prefers to go by Murdoc.”

Hotch blinked. “He told you this?”

“Yes, and a good deal more. You could help bring him down—if you get your people out here _stat_.”

Hotch took another deep breath. “I’ll gather my team.”

“ _Thank_ you.” With that, Director Webber hung up.

Hotch sighed. He’d have a lot of explaining to do.

...

**THE BAU JET**

“I still don’t like this,” said Morgan. “We’re walking in blind. I’d like to at least know who’s been taken.”

“We will as soon as Director Webber sends the file,” said Hotch.

“Speaking of which, here it is,” said Garcia. “And—not that I am in any way disputing your decision—remind me why you brought me along?”

“Director Webber said, quote, ‘we need all the help we can get on this one.’ The file?”

“Yes. Here we are.”

A picture came up on the screen, along with some text. 

“Unsub—well, not really _un_ -sub, we know who he is—is suspect 218, international hit man, on every government agency’s most wanted list. Also known as Murdoc. And no, that’s not a nickname someone else gave him—it’s a name he gave himself. He’s gone by dozens of aliases, but apparently prefers to be called Murdoc. We’re currently investigating him because he kidnapped this man—”

Another picture, more text.

“Angus MacGyver. Native of Mission City, California. Spent two years at MIT, then three as an EOD tech in Afghanistan. Currently an operative for the Phoenix Foundation, a covert government agency the mere existence of which is _way_ above our usual pay grade. Taken from his home approximately two hours ago—no note, no contact, but the kidnapper deliberately left a signature, which is _majorly_ sick, by the way, that clearly identified him as Murdoc.”

“Hang on,” Prentiss interjected, “are we sure it isn’t someone pretending to be Murdoc?”

“We can decide that when we land,” said Hotch. “Garcia, continue?”

“We have time of abduction because a van was caught on streetcam leaving the neighborhood with plates that won’t be out for six months. That was at nine twenty-three. The van was traced to a warehouse, where Phoenix agents found two bodies, each dead of two gunshot wounds to the back of the head. That’s when the Phoenix decided to call us in. About half an hour ago, someone authorized a bump in our security clearance—a _major_ bump—which can only mean that someone high up in the Phoenix food chain _really_ wants this man back.”

“That’s correct,” said Hotch. “Director Webber authorized the clearance boost. Let’s not let her down.”

...

Reid was engrossed in a book when JJ tapped him on the shoulder.

“We just got an update on the status of the kidnapped agent,” she said.

“Gather ‘round everyone,” said Garcia. “Angus MacGyver has been found. He showed up in a local hospital, drugged and disoriented but fairly lucid. His team picked him up as quickly as possible—”

“That I can understand,” said Prentiss. “Covert operatives, drugs, and general hospitals are usually a bad combination.”

“—and he’s currently recovering in Phoenix medical.”

“I’ve asked Director Webber not to let anyone speak to him about what happened until we arrive,” said Hotch. 

“So we’re still going?” asked Morgan.

“Yes,” Hotch replied. “We’re still tracking a hit man. This might be our best chance to take him off the streets. Prentiss, you’ll conduct the cognitive interview. Garcia, you’ll work with the Phoenix’s technology expert, continue gathering information on Murdoc and his past victims. JJ, Rossi, you’ll start putting the profile together from what Garcia and their expert come up with. Reid, Morgan—you’ll interview Agent MacGyver’s teammates, start building a profile from what they tell us about his past behavior. Garcia, tell them what you told me.”

“The file says this isn’t the first time Murdoc has met Agent MacGyver. Murdoc attacked him and his roommate in MacGyver’s own home, then later threatened his team to get him to walk into a trap. Even later, MacGyver had to pretend to _be_ Murdoc to stop an assassination—and he asked Murdoc, who was in prison at the time—he’s since escaped—to teach him how to play the part convincingly.”

“That could be the start of an obsession right there,” said Morgan.

“Looks that way,” said Rossi, “Kidnapping a young, fit man—a trained operative—in his own home, recruiting help to do it, and then killing your assistants once they’re no longer useful? That’s commitment.”

“There’s also the fact that MacGyver isn’t dead,” said Morgan. “For a hit man to suddenly switch to kidnapping, with no obvious motive? That’s strange.”

“Very strange,” said JJ.

“You said he was drugged,” Reid interjected. “Do we know what with?”

Garcia looked at her screen. “Not yet, but they’re running a tox screen.”

“We’ll learn more once we arrive,” said Hotch.

“There’s one more factor we need to consider,” said JJ. “What do we know about Agent MacGyver’s teammates?”

“Not much,” said Garcia. “We know they exist, a little about their skill sets, and that there are five of them, counting Director Webber.”

JJ’s face twitched. “Our job just got a lot harder. Teams like this, especially small ones, tend to be highly insular, and when one of their own is injured, their first instinct will be to close ranks. They’ll defend the injured member at all costs against anything they perceive as a threat. We have to convince them that we aren’t that threat.”

“Even if we manage to convince them we aren’t a threat, they may still decide there are things we don’t need to know,” said Morgan. “Natural response, just their way of protecting one of their own against what they perceive as an intrusion.”

“Speaking of which,” added Rossi, “we don’t know if the rest of the team went along with Director Webber’s request to call us in. They may view our presence as an insult to their ability to take care of their own, especially now that Agent MacGyver is safe and they’re no longer panicking.”

“Not to mention, these people are professional liars,” said Prentiss. “We’ll all need to be at our best, looking for any signs of deception.”

“Our best chance is to obtain Agent MacGyver’s full cooperation,” said Hotch. “If he convinces the others that we’re trustworthy, they may ease back on the defenses. Prentiss, you’ll be talking to him first, so that’s on you.”

Prentiss nodded. “I’ll do what I can.”

...

**THE PHOENIX FOUNDATION**

**SOMEWHERE IN LOS ANGELES**

When the BAU arrived at the location Director Webber had sent, they were greeted by a tall, shiny building.

They walked in and made their way to the fifth floor, as instructed.

When they got off the elevators, two women were waiting for them. One was a little person with long, dark hair. The other was tall and blonde.

“My name is Matilda Webber,” said the dark-haired woman. “I’m the director of the Phoenix Foundation. Call me Matty.”

“Samantha Cage,” said the blonde in an Australian accent, extending her hand to shake. “Former CIA, information extraction expert. The rest of our team is in medical.”

“We understand completely,” said Prentiss.

“SSA Aaron Hotchner,” Hotch said, returning the handshake. “These are agents Prentiss, Morgan, Rossi, Jareau—”

“Call me JJ—”

“Garcia, and Dr. Reid.”

Reid waved.

“Right then,” said Cage. “You wanted to do a cognitive interview, you said? I managed to keep the rest of the team from asking Mac too many questions about what happened, so I think his memories should still be fairly pure. So far, we know that he came out of a manhole cover and was very nearly hit by a car before collapsing on the pavement, which is when a bystander called 911. I could handle the interview process—I have experience with this sort of thing—but if you don’t trust me...”

Prentiss looked her in the eye. “We trust you,” she said. “But we find that it’s often better to have someone the witness doesn’t know handle a cognitive interview—a personal connection might make them more uncomfortable talking about certain things, or it could lead them to soften their language to protect the interviewer. If it’s not practical to have a stranger do it, of course, anyone properly trained can, but given the option, we’d rather do it this way.”

Cage nodded. “I understand.”

Garcia held up her laptop bag. “Is there somewhere we can set up?”

“Over here,” said Matty and gestured for the team to follow. She led them to an empty conference room.

“May I speak with Agent MacGyver?” asked Prentiss.

“Follow me,” Matty replied.

...

**PHOENIX MEDICAL**

**IT’S MORE CROWDED IN HERE THAN USUAL**

Prentiss scanned the room as Matty turned to leave.

She saw a blond man sitting on an exam table, a light-skinned man with short hair and a pronounced widow’s peak hovering next to him, a man with brown skin and a worried look not far away, and a woman with dark curly hair and a look of intense concentration sitting with a laptop computer at a table. Even as Prentiss was completing her scan, everyone’s heads had turned to look at her.

“SSA Emily Prentiss,” she said. “I’m here to help you guys catch the man who did this.”

“Jack Dalton,” said the man with the widow’s peak. “We heard you were coming. You and your team, right?”

“The rest of my team is upstairs, starting to put together a profile so we can figure out what Murdoc is likely to do next. They’ll need to talk to all of you to piece together his past behavior—”

“I still can’t believe you guys are real profilers!” the brown-skinned man exclaimed. “This is so cool! I mean—” he glanced at the blond man, who was barely containing laughter, “sorry Mac, obviously this isn’t cool, but you know what I mean.”

“It’s okay, Boze,” the blond man replied. “By the way, that’s Bozer, and... I’m MacGyver. Call me Mac.” Mac had stopped laughing and was looking down, fidgeting with the sleeve of his shirt.

“And I’m Riley,” the curly-haired woman instantly interjected.

“Okay,” said Prentiss, “Mac, I’m going to need to take you through something called a cognitive interview. It’s going to focus on the sensory details of what you experienced—what you smelled, heard, or felt could be just as important as what you saw.”

“I’ve heard of something like this,” said Mac. “In EOD training.”

Prentiss nodded. “Is there somewhere in this building where you’re comfortable where we can talk without being overheard?”

“I’m comfortable anywhere,” Mac replied. “This room works, if you can convince Jack to leave.” He smiled slightly, but gave Jack a pointed look.

Prentiss smiled. “I think _you’d_ better do that.”

“Jack,” said Mac, “ _please_.”

Jack sighed. “ _Fine_ ,” he said. “But we’re all gonna be right in the next room if you need anything, okay?”

Mac nodded. “Okay.”

Jack, Bozer, and Riley all left, leaving Prentiss and Mac alone in the room.

“Is it okay if I record this?” asked Prentiss, pulling a recording device out of her pocket.

“Who’s going to listen?” asked Mac.

“My team,” said Prentiss. “There are seven of us, counting me. They’re all good people, and we’ve all heard just about everything under the sun, so I wouldn’t worry.”

Mac took a deep breath. “Okay.”

“I’m gonna turn the recorder on now, is that all right?”

“Yeah.”

The recorder clicked on.

“Okay, now,” said Prentiss. “Relax. Close your eyes if it helps. When you’re ready, put yourself back in the place where you were being held. Tell me what impressions come to mind.”

“I’m sitting in a chair,” said Mac slowly. “It’s damp. Smells like mold... burnt motor oil... and bleach... There’s no windows, just a hanging light. I think I’m underground.”

“Good,” said Prentiss. “What do you see? What do you feel?”

“The chair is cold. It’s rough in places, it’s jagged. It’s old. The walls are made of rough, grey tiles. There are handcuffs cutting into my wrists, and... there’s a needle in my right arm, just below the—”

Mac gasped. His eyes snapped open.

“It’s okay,” said Prentiss gently. “This exercise can bring up vivid memories, it’s very common. Take your time.”

Mac nodded.

Prentiss continued. “Whenever you’re ready, you can go back.”

Mac took a deep breath, rolled his head around, and shut his eyes again.

“What do you see?” asked Prentiss.

Mac shuddered. “He’s there.”

“Who’s there?”

“Murdoc.”

Prentiss had suspected as much, but still thought it wise to confirm. “What’s he doing?”

“Just... standing there. Talking to me.”

“What’s he saying?”

“He’s telling me a story.”

“What’s the story about?”

“I...” Mac opened his eyes, suddenly wary. “I shouldn’t tell you.”

“That’s okay,” said Prentiss. “When you’re ready.”

Mac shut his eyes again. “He’s... he’s leaving. I have to get out of here before he comes back... there’s a door, I can feel cold air seeping in from the other side. It’s a way out.”

Prentiss leaned forward. “Good. Now, you’re in a tunnel. It’s dark. It’s wet. What happens now?”

Mac circled his hand in the air while he talked, face screwed up with concentration. “I can hear splashing, it’s water, it’s—it’s moving with me. And after about... twenty minutes, I heard something. It was like... bells, church bells. But it wasn’t just bells, it was another sound. Right after the church bells started, there was a second sound, it was harsher. Second sound, it was, uh... air raid siren?”

Mac opened his eyes suddenly. His whole demeanor had changed. Previously, he’d looked nervous, unsure. Now he was secure, confident. “Fire station! It was a fire station.” He looked towards the room where his team were assembled. “Which means I need Riley in here, right now.”

“Because...?”

“I know how to figure out where I was.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This chapter contains canon-typical violence and references to homophobia and internalized homophobia. Also, my aro/ace autistic ass just had occasion to write two extremely socially gifted people flirting with each other. If this is a trainwreck, I apologize in advance. Hope you enjoy!

Riley, Jack and Bozer crowded back into the room, each looking from Mac to Prentiss as though to reassure themselves that everything was all right, or as all right as it could be.

“Riley,” said Mac. “I assume you’ve been eavesdropping?”

Riley looked him straight in the eye. “Yeah.”

“How many churches in the area we’re talking about?”

Riley pulled out her laptop, pulled up a map, and hit a few keys. “Five.”

“Okay. Church bells, they ring every half hour. And it was about fifteen minutes before I crawled out of the manhole, so, one thirty PM. And by law, the LAFD keeps a record of every siren, so Riley, maybe you can—”

“—An alarm sounded at Grand Street Fire Station at one twenty-nine.”

“One twenty-nine and how many seconds?”

Riley gave him a look.

“It’s... kind of important.”

“Fifty-eight.”

“Fifty-eight. Fifty-eight seconds, okay.” Mac jumped off the exam table, grabbed a marker, strode across the room, and stopped in front of the window that separated the room from the room his team had been in. “That fire alarm, it sounded before the church bells.” As he spoke, he drew arcs on the window. “But I heard it after. And that’s because sound travels at three hundred and forty meters per second, approximately—” he wrote this information on the window— “and it propagates out into a circle, so I have to solve for the radius, but you know what?” He stopped as if realizing something. “You guys don’t need an explanation, right? I can just do the math?”

Nods and murmurs of assent all around.

Mac leaned closer to the window, writing quickly and muttering to himself. Then, he straightened up.

“So, we are looking for a sewer tunnel that is one thousand and twenty meters from a church and one thousand seven hundred meters from  _ that _ fire station.” He tapped the window with the end of his marker for emphasis.

“I got two that fit your criteria,” said Riley, “but only one where the water is flowing towards your exit point.”

“That’s perfect,” said Mac. “Okay. So I was drugged, disoriented, probably moving no more than one-point-five miles per hour. Which would put Murdoc’s torture room right about...” he pointed to a spot on Riley’s map—“there.”

“Well c’mon then,” said Jack. “Let’s go find Lord Nutbar’s lair and figure out where he’s got to now.”

“I second that,” said Riley.

...

**PHOENIX FOUNDATION ROOM 518C**

**CURRENTLY IN USE AS A BRIEFING ROOM**

**AND HEADQUARTERS FOR THE BAU**

The room was a flurry of people.

Packed in, having recently finished introductions, were Mac, Jack, Matty, Riley, Bozer, Cage, and the entirety of the BAU. Room 518C was by no means small, but with that many people clustered around the large table in the center, it still felt crowded.

At the front of the room, Hotch and Matty were talking. “—some of my agents should accompany yours,” Hotch was saying. “Observing the scene could be invaluable in helping us build the profile.”

Matty nodded. “All right.”

Hotch turned to the group. “Prentiss, Reid, Morgan, you’ll accompany the Phoenix agents to the scene. The rest of us will stay here and keep working on the profile from what we already have.”

“All right everyone, let’s go get him,” said Matty.

Mac, who had been fidgeting throughout the conversation, spoke up. “Uh, Matty? There’s something I need to tell you.” He looked around at the BAU. “What’s their security clearance?”

“Is this about Murdoc?”

“Yes.”

“Then they can and should know.”

Mac glanced at the assembled people, took a deep breath, and continued speaking. “Murdoc knows... that we know... that he  _ wants _ to know... about Cassian. Because I told him. I didn’t tell him where he is,” he hastened to add. “Just that I  _ wouldn’t. _ Before he’d even asked me any questions.” Mac looked down. “I know you’re not supposed to volunteer information when being interrogated, but I was pretty out of it.”

“No one blames you,” said Matty. “And I’m sure he knew that already.”

“But—” Mac continued, “assuming he wasn’t just trying to mess with my head—he does want to know. He told me so.”

“Thank you,” said Matty. “That’s good to know.”

“Who’s Cassian?” asked Prentiss.

“Murdoc’s son,” Matty replied.

Every eye in the BAU flicked over to Prentiss, then quickly away.

“Go get ready, everyone,” said Matty. “We leave in five.”

...

**LARGE, CREEPY WAREHOUSE**

The assembled agents crept in behind the TAC team, guns (for those who carried them) drawn, shouts of “clear!” echoing in the large space.

Mac was drawn over to a corner, where he opened a door which led to a stairway. He shined his flashlight down the stairs and into the room below. A quick glance was all he needed. As he turned away, something on the floor caught his eye. He knelt to inspect it, and Reid knelt next to him.

“What is it?” Reid asked.

“It’s part of the lock on the door,” Mac replied. “I blew it out with a hydraulic jackhammer.”

“How’d you make a hydraulic jackhammer?” asked Reid, eyes lighting up.

Mac smiled a little. “Well, there was a tank of compressed air, and I had a hollow pole from the IV Murdoc was using to drug me...”

Meanwhile, Riley, Jack, Matty, and Morgan were inspecting a table with a few open cases of various nasty-looking implements.

“Looks like Murdoc forgot to put away his toys,” said Riley, with a sharp edge to her voice.

“This is staged,” said Morgan. “Everything’s too perfect. He knew Mac would come back here.”

“Uh, yeah,” said Bozer. “I think you’re right about that.” He gestured towards the wall, where “BE SEEING YOU” was written in large, dark red letters.

“Tear this place apart,” Matty snarled.

...

Prentiss and Cage were clearing a large, open-air section of the warehouse when Cage’s phone rang.

Cage picked up, and her eyes widened. She promptly put it on speaker.

“—to extend a warm welcome to you,” said a high, nasal voice on the other end. 

_ Murdoc, _ Cage mouthed. She began pacing back and forth.

Prentiss pulled out her phone and started recording.

“I’m just thrilled that you’ve joined our little family, Samantha. I just know we’re gonna have loads of fun together.”

“Murdoc,” Cage said.

“The one and only,” said Murdoc. “Except for that guy whose name really  _ was _ Murdoc. I killed him so I could steal his identity. Anyhoo. Enough about me. Do you prefer Samantha, or Sammy, or... Sammy-sammy-bo-bammy?”

“What do you want?” Cage snapped.

“Lots of things. But for now, I just want to get to know you better. We have so much in common, after all. We’re both interesting people with interesting pasts... Neither of us are using our real names...”

“You seem to think you know a lot about me,” said Cage. Her voice was perfectly steady, but Prentiss could read the microexpression of fear that had crossed her face when Murdoc had uttered those last words.

“Uh-uh-uh,” said Murdoc. “It would be more correct to say that I  _ know _ I know a lot about you. Enough to be fascinated. I know that your new friends would be fascinated, too, if they knew the truth.”

There it was again. Fear.

“And I know that if you don’t stop that annoying pacing, and tell your  _ friend _ from the FBI to stop listening in, I’m gonna lose my temper and pull this trigger.”

Cage froze for a second, then resumed pacing. 

“You’re playing mind games with the wrong girl, Murdoc,” she said.

“Is that so?”

“The sheer fact that you’ve engaged tells me you’re lying. You don’t have eyes on me, and you’re—”

She cut off with a scream as a gunshot rang out.

Prentiss caught her and slowly lowered her as her phone clattered to the ground, opening her shirt to see the damage.

“My vest stopped it,” said Cage to Prentiss.

“Word to the wise, Sam,” said Murdoc from the phone, still on speaker. “Don’t get too attached to boy genius... he’s not gonna be around much longer.”

“SAM!” shouted Mac, sprinting towards Cage and Prentiss. Prentiss was helping Cage to her feet.

“Murdoc, he had a clear line of sight,” said Cage as soon as Mac arrived. Mac slipped under Cage’s other arm, and Mac and Prentiss together helped Cage inside.

“Get a medic up here,” called Mac, at virtually the same time as Prentiss shouted, “we need a medic!”

“And have your team check every rooftop south of this building for five city blocks,” said Mac to the TAC commander as they passed. “NOW!”

“Lucky it wasn’t a head shot,” remarked Mac.

“It wasn’t luck,” said Cage and Prentiss at the same time.

Mac did a double take. Then, he sighed. “Yeah, he’s  _ fun _ like that.”

“I recorded the whole conversation,” said Prentiss. “My team will analyze his speech patterns, see if there’s anything we can find that’ll tell us what he’ll do next.”

“How is a phone call going to help with that?” asked Mac.

“You’d be surprised.”

The medic hadn’t arrived yet, so they sat Cage down on the ground, with her back to a wall. Prentiss sat next to her.

“Mac!” called Jack. “We’re leaving to search the rooftops.”

“On my way.” Mac stood up and dashed over to where Jack stood, then left.

“You don’t need to hover, you know,” said Cage to Prentiss.

“You just got shot,” said Prentiss. “Vest or no vest, that’s not fun. A little hovering won’t hurt you.”

“Like you’d complain any less.”

“...Fair point.”

When the medic arrived, he told Cage that she ought to take it easy for the rest of the day. “You might not have full use of your shoulder yet, so someone should probably drive you wherever it is you’re going. You can take ibuprofen or acetaminophen for the pain, if it’s bothering you. Just be careful with that shoulder until it’s better, don’t do any heavy lifting for the next few days, and be careful if you have to fire a gun—this could throw off your aim.”

“Understood,” said Cage, “but I can drive myself.”

Matty stared her down. “You will let someone drive you. Riley, I need you here. Volunteers?”

“I’ll drive her,” said Prentiss. “I can report back to my colleagues back at headquarters about what I’ve seen and heard here, so we can expand the profile.”

“All right,” said Matty. “Go.”

...

**CAGE’S CAR**

Prentiss drove in silence as Cage sat shotgun, staring straight ahead, hands in her lap.

She was too still. Too quiet. And Prentiss knew it.

Finally, she spoke. “I have a question that I’d rather not ask you in front of your team.”

“Go ahead,” said Prentiss.

“When Matty told your team about Cassian, that he was Murdoc’s son, everyone looked at you,” said Cage. “What happened?”

Prentiss sighed. “That is a  _ long _ story.”

“I’m listening,” said Cage.

Prentiss took a deep breath. “I was like you—I wasn’t always with the team I’m with now. I used to work for Interpol. Years ago, before I joined the BAU, I got assigned to a mission to take down a man called Ian Doyle.”

“I’ve heard of him,” said Cage. “I heard that your team got him—your current team, I mean.”

“That’s true,” said Prentiss. “What you don’t know is why. I was assigned to infiltrate—I got close. Very close.”

Cage nodded.

“Well, the mission was a success, and Doyle went away. But here’s the thing—Doyle had a child. A child he’d asked me to help him raise.” Prentiss took a shaky breath in and out. Then, she continued. “I knew Declan wouldn’t be safe as long as his father was alive. So I faked his death and got him on a plane to America.”

“And Doyle figured out that it was a ruse and came looking?” asked Cage.

“Not quite. Eventually, Doyle got out of the hole we’d stashed him in and came here, looking for revenge.”

“Didn’t you kill your alias?” asked Cage.

“Of course. He found me anyway. He killed”—Prentiss’s voice hitched slightly—“several of my former team and threatened me and the rest of the BAU. They didn’t know a thing about my past—and I couldn’t tell them, Doyle made it very clear he’d kill them if they got involved. And they would have. So—eventually, he caught me.”

Prentiss turned her body slightly and pulled down the neck of her shirt, exposing a clover-shaped burn scar.

Cage didn’t react.

Prentiss continued. “My team were able to track me, and they got there right after Doyle had stabbed me in the gut. I got to the hospital, and barely survived—but JJ and Hotch told the team I was dead. I went to Paris, laid low for a while, so Doyle wouldn’t come looking.”

“How did your team take that?”

“Varying degrees of not well,” said Prentiss.

“As one might expect,” said Cage. “By all means, continue.”

“My team—they were torn up. Furious, grieving... So they hunted Doyle down. And eventually, they found him. He’d learned that his son was alive and was trying to get to him. I came back to help. We were able to take him down—but Declan saw.”

“I’m sorry,” said Cage.

“Me too,” said Prentiss. “Anyway, when Matty mentioned Cassian’s situation—well, it sounded familiar. So that’s why they looked at me.”

“Thank you for telling me,” said Cage.

“But do you want to know the most remarkable part of the whole story?” said Prentiss. “My team saw the photographs of Declan’s faked death. They saw my hand in one of them. They knew it was me. My team had every reason to suspect that I’d  _ executed _ a  _ child _ —and, when I was in trouble? They _ came for me anyway _ .” She paused. “I don’t know if they never believed it, or if they just believed I’d changed, or if it was a mix of both—but when I needed them, it didn’t matter that they’d just learned about a huge chunk of my past I’d kept hidden from them, it didn’t matter that they had cause to think I’d done something beyond horrible—they came for me anyway.”

Cage nodded. “That’s... incredible.”

“You’re wondering why I’m telling you this,” said Prentiss.

“I must admit, I am,” said Cage.

“I already told you,” said Prentiss. “I was like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I came into this team when most of us had been working together for years already. I know how it feels,” said Prentiss, leaning toward Cage slightly. “You see the way they interact, how much they trust each other. How much they care about each other. And it scares you, because you’ve seen the best and the worst of humanity, with a heavy emphasis on the worst, and you thought you’d seen it all, but they’re something new. And you’ve worked on close-knit teams before, but never like this. You feel like an intruder. You feel like the mere fact of who you are and what you do means you could never be a part of something like that. Never trust and be trusted like that. And, just when you thought you were settling in,  _ this _ happened.”

Cage shut her eyes for a moment.

“When they found out they’d lost him, while they were working to get him back, you saw something incredible and terrifying. And you  _ felt _ something too, something you might not have felt before. You’re realizing that you’re becoming part of this team, and you’re drawn to it and afraid of it at the same time, because you don’t like the idea of being that vulnerable. Of having something you can’t lose.” Prentiss looked Cage in the eye for an instant, before returning her eyes to the road.

“What happened?” asked Cage. “You’re obviously speaking from experience.”

“That’s not mine to tell,” said Prentiss.

Cage nodded.

“But I want to tell you something,” said Prentiss. “It’s okay to be that kind of vulnerable—because they will make you stronger, and they will make your life so much better. Don’t be afraid, and don’t stop trying if it’s taking a little while for you to really feel like part of the team. They’re going through a lot right now, but things will settle down, and you’ll still be there. And when it happens—when you’re really one of them—” Prentiss broke off. “It’ll be the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

Cage was silent for a moment. Then, she spoke.

“You do know that none of your friends think you’re straight—right?”

“That is  _ textbook _ deflection.”

Cage laughed. “So is that.”

Now it was Prentiss’s turn to be silent. When she finally spoke, it was quietly.

“How did you know?”

“That you’re not straight, or that your team know about it?”

“Start with the first one.”

Cage smiled. “Your belt buckle is off-center and your pupils dilate when you look at me. Do you want me to go on?”

Prentiss looked down and away. “No, thanks.”

“As for the second inference, one of your teammates looked at me, smiled, and pointed at you when we were making introductions and your back was turned.”

“ _ Morgan, _ ” hissed Prentiss.

Cage’s smile widened. “He did this in plain view of your other teammates, which, given the tremendous amount of respect he clearly has for you, he wouldn’t have done if he thought they didn’t know. Therefore, they all know, and they all know the others know.”

Prentiss blinked.

“So... you said my pupils dilated when I look at you. Are you... upset that...” Prentiss trailed off.

“That you like me?” Cage flashed another smile. “No, not at all. Not to sound conceited, but I’m a woman who’s generally considered pretty and who  _ knows _ when people are into her—I’m used to it. In fact,” she said,  _ sotto voce, _ “don’t tell anyone I said this, but one of my teammates has a little bit of a thing for me, and it hasn’t impeded our working relationship at all.”

“Trust me,” said Prentiss, “I noticed.”

Cage tilted her head. “You jealous?” she asked playfully.

“No, not at all! Just...”

“It’s all right,” said Cage, laughing under her breath. “I like him as a friend, and respect him as a person and a coworker, but I’m not interested in him romantically. And even if I was, I never get involved with men,  _ or women _ , who I work with.”

Prentiss nodded.

“But I have a vested interest in bringing down the  _ bastard _ who shot me and hurt my friend, so, hopefully... soon  _ we _ won’t be.”

Prentiss ducked her head.

There was a moment of quiet.

Then:

“What happened?” asked Cage. “I can understand not being out—you’re at the FBI, things are complicated—but I’m sensing something else going on here.”

After a long pause, Prentiss spoke.

“Her name was Safia.”

More silence.

“I grew up a diplomat’s daughter. Spent a lot of time in Middle Eastern countries. You have to understand, I was young, I was stupid—I wasn’t thinking, I just—it was only kissing.”

Prentiss took a deep, shaky breath. Cage leaned in, making no move to interrupt.

“My mom caught us. Thank God it was only my mom. She sent Safia home, and spent the next hour chewing me out—as well she should have. She told me about what the consequences would be if we got caught. For me, next to nothing—diplomatic immunity, and all. For Safia...”

Cage nodded.

“My mom thought I was just doing it to piss her off.” Prentiss smiled slightly. “Which, to be fair, almost everything I did at that age was to piss my mom off, so it wasn’t a groundless assumption. At the time, I was so angry that she’d think that. But eventually, when I’d calmed down...” She paused. “I guess it was the only one of my mom’s lectures that really stuck.” She took a deep breath. “I know it’s beyond stupid. It’s not a crime here. But still, I mean, this country’s not perfect. And every time I look at a woman that way, I can’t help feeling like, what if someone gets hurt because of me?”

Cage tilted her head. Then, she spoke. “Don’t you think you should let us make our own decisions?”

Prentiss raised one eyebrow. “Us?”

“Women.”

Prentiss smiled. “I’ll consider it.”

...

**MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE LARGE, CREEPY WAREHOUSE**

“We checked every rooftop and window on every building on his sightline for over a mile and got bupkis,” said Jack as he and Mac walked back into the warehouse. “There is no sign of Captain Crazypants anywhere, Matty.”

“Well then, look harder,” Matty replied. “No, not you, Blondie,” she said as Mac started to leave. “I need your eyes on something we found over here.”

“We found a trash can full of ashes,” said Riley. “Looks like Murdoc tried to cover his tracks.”

Various half-burned pieces of paper were carefully arranged on a table. “This is the biggest piece,” said Bozer, gesturing to one. “Feels like photo paper, but we can’t make out the image.”

“Hey,” called Mac to a passing tech. “You don’t have a portable x-ray machine in your field kit, do you?”

“In the SUV,” the tech replied, “but why would you—”

“Don’t ask questions,” Matty interrupted. “Just go get it!”

Mac walked over to another table and picked up a large camera. “I, uh, I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” he said, “but I need to go back into the room Murdoc planned to kill me in and... turn off all the lights.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know I made Cage a little more injured than she was in canon, but I needed that to happen for the sake of plot. Hope no one minds.
> 
> Also, for any of my readers who are unsure: the bit about Ian Doyle and Declan is CM canon. The bit about Safia was my own invention.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody! This chapter contains references to canon-typical violence, prison, and stalking and sexual assault that didn't and won't happen (basically, Murdoc is creepy and the BAU is trying to figure out what kind of creepy. Those are possibilities that are discussed and rejected). Hope you enjoy!

Matty, Riley, Bozer, Reid, and Morgan were all crowded into the small room, clustered around Mac, who was busy setting up the camera.

“That photo’s days of reflecting visible light are over,” said Mac. “The fire scorched most of the emulsion. But if there are any silver bromide crystals left, they should still glow if we hit them with enough x-rays. That’s why I’m opening this portable x-ray emitter and—”

“Taking out the voltage resistor?” Reid interjected. “How will you complete the circuit?”

“...Yes, actually. I’ll swap in a penny. I can use the copper to rebuild the connection, and get a higher output of x-rays.”

“I assume you’re using a penny from before 1982, then?”

“Yes, I carry some with me in case I need something copper.”

Riley and Morgan exchanged a look.

“Uh, is that safe?” asked Bozer.

“I would recommend stepping back and covering yourselves,” Mac replied.

Bozer did not look reassured.

Everyone, save Mac, stepped back.

“Bozer, the lights?” said Mac.

Bozer hit the lights, dropping the room into darkness.

A series of clicks and whirrs sounded as Mac took pictures.

“Uh, Mac?” said Bozer. “I don’t see anything.”

“You don’t,” said Mac, “but the camera sure does. Lights again.”

The lights came back on.

The image of a man was faintly visible in the picture of the photo on the camera’s screen.

“It’s called x-ray fluorescence,” Mac explained.

“It’s called a damn miracle,” said Matty.

“That’s about all I can do,” said Mac. “Riley, do you think you can clean this up, get us a good look at the face?”

Riley opened her rig. “Actually, I think I can clear this up enough to let my facial recognition software do its thing.”

“Nice,” said Mac.

The man’s face appeared on Riley’s screen, and she began running her software. “All right,” she muttered, staring at the blur of faces going by. When a result popped up, she drew back in surprise. “We got a hit.”

“Hey-hey, nice work, Riley!” called Bozer, running over to her. “Which database did you find our mystery man in?”

“CDE,” said Riley, a clear note of puzzlement in her voice.

“Wait,” said Mac, just as confused. “The California Department of Education?”

“Yeah,” said Riley.

“Look,” Matty interjected. “If Murdoc destroyed the picture, we have to assume this teacher is his next victim.”

“All right then,” said Mac. “Let’s go warn him, get him into protective custody.”

“Hold on,” said Morgan. “This isn’t right.”

“I agree, killing a teacher is pretty messed up,” said Riley.

“That’s not what I mean,” said Morgan. He turned to Matty. “You called us here to provide our expertise on this case, so that’s what I’m gonna do. I specialize in crimes of obsession, and this case has all the hallmarks of one. It just doesn’t make any sense for someone this obsessed with a specific target—in this case, Mac—”

He turned to Mac. “And yes, I know you’re in the room, so I’m sorry—to suddenly abandon that target and go after some random teacher.” He turned back to Matty. “This has to do with Mac in some way, I can almost promise you that. And it could be a trap. Everything about the way we found this place feels deliberate to me—maybe our finding that photo was too.”

“Look,” said Mac. “Maybe this teacher has something to do with me and maybe he doesn’t. But either way, he’s in danger, and we can’t wait to warn him until we figure out exactly what’s going on.”

“Blondie’s right,” said Matty. “But lucky for us, we have Riley. And I’m told your technical analyst is excellent as well?”

“She’s beyond excellent,” said Morgan.

“Riley, send the photo and the name to Penelope Garcia back at Phoenix HQ. Both of you, work fast. Give me everything there is to know about this guy, and I mean _everything._ _Especially_ any potential connections to Mac. You have until we get to his house, which should be in about... Riley?”

“An hour and a half,” Riley said.

Just then, Jack walked in. “What’d I miss?”

“We have Murdoc’s next victim ID’d, but Morgan thinks it might be a trap.”

“Well, ordinarily I’d say that’s business as usual, but I’m not feeling so inclined to let you go waltzing into a trap right now, bud.”

“Agreed,” said Matty over Mac’s immediate protestations. “Mac, just because we have to warn and protect Mr. Fletcher doesn’t mean  _ you _ have to. You’ll go back to HQ and help the BAU build their profile.”

“If Mac’s not going, I’m not going,” said Jack. “I’m not letting you out of my  _ sight _ .”

“Jack, you don’t have to—”

“Hey, you just got  _ kidnapped _ this morning, so you don’t get to argue with me about what I do and don’t need to do to keep you safe, capisce?”

Mac sighed. “Yeah.”

Matty smiled. “Jack, I know better than to order you to leave Mac right now, so you can drive him back to the Phoenix. Mac, that scopolamine might still be clearing your system, and until it does, you shouldn’t be driving.”

Mac nodded. “I know.”

“Hey, can I catch a ride with you guys?” asked Riley. “I’ll work in the backseat. I just think Garcia and I will cover more ground if we’re working side by side instead of apart.”

“Sure thing,” said Jack.

Meanwhile, Matty had picked up the phone. “Hotch? Could I borrow some of your agents? It could be a trap, but a man’s life might depend on it.” A pause. “We found what appears to be a partially destroyed photo of Murdoc’s next victim. He turned up in the CDE database, but Agent Morgan suspects it was staged.” Another pause. “Rossi and Jareau? Excellent. Thank you. I’m sending you the address now. I’ll fill them in on the way.”

...

**PHOENIX FOUNDATION ROOM 518B**

**CURRENT CONTENTS: TWO SEMI-FORMER HACKERS**

Riley and Garcia sat next to each other, typing furiously, maintaining a steady stream of chatter as they told each other what they were doing to avoid going over the same ground twice.

Every now and then, one would peek at the other’s screen.

Eventually, Riley broke the flow with a question.

“Okay, I gotta ask. I think I recognize your style—Weaver19?”

Garcia nodded. “Artemis37?” she said slowly.

Riley smiled slightly.

“I always wondered why you went dark,” said Riley. “You started working for the FBI? What happened—you get caught?”

“Exactly,” said Garcia. “They gave me a choice—go to prison or take a job with them.”

“Well, you definitely chose right,” said Riley, a faraway look in her eyes.

Garcia tilted her head. “Did you get caught? You went dark, too.”

“Yes, but it was kind of on purpose—long story. Just—believe me when I say it was my best option at the time. I wasn’t as lucky as you—spent two years in a supermax before the Phoenix decided to offer me a job. Well, they weren’t called the Phoenix back then. DXS?”

“I’ve heard of them,” said Garcia, with a slight sideways smile. “I kind of can’t believe I get to meet you.”

Riley smiled back, just a little. “You either.”

There was a moment of quiet, interrupted only by the clacking of keys. Then Riley spoke up again.

“What’s it like, working for the FBI? I’d imagine it’s pretty stifling for someone like you.”

“Actually, you’d be surprised how much freedom they give me when lives are on the line,” said Garcia. “The worst part is just... the BAU hunts some of the worst people on Earth, and I get  _ very _ up close and personal with what they do. Not as much as the people who go to the scenes, of course—” she shuddered— “but close enough.” She paused. “What about you? Do you get stifled at all?”

Riley shook her head. “It’s like you said—they give me a lot of freedom when lives are on the line. More than the FBI would, I’m pretty sure. The Phoenix has a lot of freedom to do what ordinary agencies can’t—and Matty helps, of course. Seriously, you do not know how scary she can be when she wants to. I mean, she’s great, but you do not want to get on her bad side,  _ ever _ .”

Garcia smiled. “And I’m guessing every powerful person in this country knows that?”

“Pretty much. What about your boss?” Riley looked at Garcia. “Does he ever blink?”

Garcia thought for a moment. “It’s an open question. But he’s a good boss.”

“And the rest of your team?”

“They’re amazing,” said Garcia. “They’re my family.”

“Yeah,” said Riley, staring off into space.

“Hey,” said Garcia. “I know you’re having a rough time right now, and I’m sorry this is happening. I know you must be scared for your friend. Believe me, I know what that feels like.”

“Matty said your team is the best in the world at what you do,” said Riley. “Can you really catch Murdoc?”

“Absolutely,” said Garcia. “If anyone can catch him, we can.”

“It’s the ‘if anyone can catch him’ that worries me.”

“No one’s invincible,” said Garcia. “Sooner or later, they all make a mistake. I’m not a profiler, so I’m not really the best person to talk to about this, but I’ve picked up a bit here and there, and when someone gets this obsessed with a specific target? It tends to make them sloppy. And my team will be there when that happens.”

Riley nodded. “I hope so.”

“Hey,” said Garcia. “Hey, look at this. Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Holy crap,” said Riley. “I found something different, but... yeah. Same conclusion.”

“How many aliases is this?” Garcia was typing even more frantically now.

“I’m still digging them up, but I’m thinking... a lot.” Riley was matching Garcia’s frenetic pitch keystroke for keystroke.

“And—look at this—every one is linked to a missing person. Kiev, Berlin, Shenzhen... Oh my God. This guy’s a hit man who daylights as a schoolteacher.”

“We have to warn them,” said Riley, picking up the phone.

...

**MEANWHILE, IN ROOM 518C**

Mac sat at the table, surrounded by the BAU, and tried not to feel on the spot.

He’d been the one to insist that, rather than recorded one-on-one interviews, they should all just gather round and ask him their questions at once. That way, everyone got the information they needed in as efficient a manner as possible. After some discussion, the BAU had agreed.

(He’d also asked Jack to remain outside. He had a feeling this discussion might go into territory Jack wouldn’t particularly want to be present for.)

“We need you to think back to the first time you interacted with Murdoc, in any way,” said Morgan. “What did he say? What did he do?”

“Well,” said Mac, “the first time I interacted with Murdoc was when he was hired to kill me...”

They went through every detail. The texts—“where seldom is heard a discouraging word” and “YOU ARE FUN!” The junkyard meeting, and how Mac was sure that Murdoc had been deliberately shooting to miss. (“I’ve been shot at a lot,” he said. “I know the difference between bad aim and a deliberate taunt.”) Murdoc’s repeated statement that he wanted to be the one to kill Mac. His stories—the peanuts, Cassian’s mother. His instructions on how Mac could best become him.

“And there’s more,” said Mac. “I think—I think he let me get away, today. It was too easy.”

“Well,” said Morgan, “I was right. This is definitely a case of obsession.”

“Question is, what kind of obsession,” said Hotch.

“This is almost sounding like a stalker,” said Reid.

“Mac,” said Morgan. “In the days or weeks leading up to today, did Murdoc contact you at all?”

“No,” Mac replied.

“Did you have a creepy feeling, like someone was watching you?”

Mac laughed, short and sharp. “You have to understand, there are a lot of prices on my head. I’m often being watched. There’s a level of—background radiation—that I just have to ignore if I want to get anything done.”

Morgan nodded. “What I’m asking is, has your Geiger counter of creepy been spiking higher than usual these past few weeks?”

“No.”

“I just can’t figure this guy out,” said Prentiss. “I mean, he’s not a stalker. But a hit man suddenly develops an obsession with one of his victims and turns kidnapper, while deliberately keeping him alive despite a stated wish to ‘be the one to put him in the ground’, letting him get away and then staging a scene for him when he comes back?” She paused. “I don’t remember ever having seen this before.”

“Okay, someone’s gotta say it,” said Morgan. “Is this guy sexually motivated? In his mind, this could be some sort of elaborate courtship.”

“I don’t think so,” said Mac.

Everyone looked at him.

He took a deep breath and kept going. “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t thought about it. Bozer said Murdoc gives off, quote, ‘I’ve-got-candy-in-my-van vibes’, and... he’s not wrong. But I think, if Murdoc wanted that... he’d have done it already.” Mac was staring at his hands, which were twisting a paperclip. “He had plenty of opportunity. And... I realize there’s things he could have done that I wouldn’t necessarily know about, but I don’t think that’s his style. He’d have let me know.”

“Mac’s right,” said Prentiss. “The profile does suggest he’s the sort of person who likes to gloat.”

“Okay, that’s sex off the list of motives,” said Morgan. “So what does he want?”

Silence around the table.

“There’s only one thing we can do,” said Hotch. “Wait for him to tell us.”

Just then, Matty burst in. “Morgan, you were right. Fletcher’s a hit man. Murdoc set a trap. We’re warning your agents—they’ll arrest him as soon as they arrive.”

“Hold on,” said Reid. “This doesn’t make sense.” He turned to Mac. “You said Murdoc said  _ he _ wanted to be the one to kill you. Setting a trap to let someone else do it doesn’t fit. I think—I think he was planning on you figuring it out, taking Fletcher into custody.”

“So does he want us to take out his competition?” asked Mac.

“No, that doesn’t fit either,” said Prentiss. “This guy likes to do his own dirty work, and his sense of self-importance won’t let him let someone else take out a main rival. If he had a competitor, he’d deal with them himself.”

“So what’s he doing?” asked Mac, confused.

Reid’s eyes were closed. His hands were up in the air by his head, moving back and forth slightly. Suddenly, his eyes snapped open and his hands dropped down. “Guys,” he said. “What if we’ve got this all wrong?”

“What do you mean?” asked Morgan.

“What if Murdoc’s playing a much longer game than we thought?” He stood up and started pacing. “It’s still a crime of obsession, still focused on Mac. But today wasn’t the endgame. Today was just the setup.”

“Setup for what?” asked Mac.

“Murdoc wants two things,” said Reid. “You—in what capacity, we don’t know—and his son. We know from today that he’s not above using other people to help him, if it’ll help him get something he wants—and he’s beginning to realize that the Phoenix is too much for him to take on alone.” Reid paused. “What if he’s making allies?”

“You mean—we capture Fletcher, he breaks him out, Fletcher’s grateful and agrees to help him?” said Mac.

“That’s the idea,” said Reid.

“Of course,” said Morgan, “He’d kill these so-called allies the second they weren’t useful to him—”

“But Fletcher doesn’t need to know that,” Prentiss finished. “We need to tell Rossi and JJ.”

“We can get them armored transport,” said Mac.

“He’ll have a plan for that,” said Reid.

“How do you know?” asked Mac.

Reid shrugged. “I would.”

Mac shook his head. “How can you do this for a living?”

“Same way you can almost get blown up for a living.”

“Okay, fair point.”

...

**OFFICIAL PHOENIX VEHICLE**

**THERE ARE NO PHOENIX AGENTS IN THIS VEHICLE**

JJ was driving, so Rossi picked up and put it on speaker. “Rossi.”

“Have you gotten to Henry Fletcher’s house yet?” asked Riley on the other end of the phone.

“No.”

“Do you have what you need to make an arrest?”

Rossi looked around the car and came up with a pair of handcuffs. “Yes... why?”

“As soon as he answers the door, arrest him for identity fraud. Do  _ not _ let him go inside once he sees that you’re FBI.”

“Okay,” said Rossi, “is there something else you want to tell me?”

“Yes. He’s what’s called a fader.”

“A hit man who makes people disappear,” said Rossi. “Responsible for the education of our children. Lovely.”

“Hang on, your boss wants to talk to you,” said Riley.

“Put him on,” said Rossi, ignoring how weird it was to hear Hotch referred to as “his boss”—although it was true.

“There’s something else you need to know,” said Hotch. “We think Murdoc is intending to capture Fletcher from you on your way back to headquarters as a means of earning Fletcher’s loyalty. We advise that you arrest him and then sit tight. Stay in the house, don’t let him so much as use the bathroom unsupervised. We’re sending a TAC team to your location to guard you in case Murdoc tries to get in. Do not enter the house until they’re within two minutes.”

“Okay,” said JJ. She turned to Rossi. “This should be fun.”

“Today just got a lot longer,” said Rossi.

“I’ll take first watch tonight, if you want,” said JJ. “I’m a mom. I’m used to the sleep deprivation.”

Rossi smiled. “Only if you want to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to N1ghtshade for coming up with the idea that Mac always carries pre-1982 pennies (for the original source, see chapter 4 of Wunderkind-Season 2). Idea is borrowed with permission.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This chapter contains some swearing, threats of torture, brief mild sexism, and very bad technobabble. Happy reading!

**THE PHOENIX FOUNDATION**

**SOMEWHERE IN LOS ANGELES**

Morning at the Phoenix dawned bright and semi-early (Jack having bargained with Matty for a slowish morning. His goal was to let Mac sleep in, but... Mac wasn’t sleeping. So Jack enlisted Bozer to make pancakes instead—not that Bozer needed persuading.) The BAU (minus Rossi and JJ, who were still at Henry Fletcher’s house) were assembled in room 518C, having spent the night in a hotel. Mac, Jack, Riley, Matty, Cage, and Bozer were in the room with them.

“We need to regroup,” Hotch was saying. “There’s got to be something in the profile that’ll help us get ahead of this man.”

“I doubt he’ll be deterred if his plan to recruit Fletcher doesn’t work,” said Reid. “He’ll try to recruit others.”

“Who and how—that’s the question,” said Morgan.

“And, he might get angry and try to retaliate,” said Prentiss. “That might be our chance to catch him.”

Just then, Matty’s assistant knocked on the door.

“Come in,” called Matty, and the door swung open.

“There’s an incoming call for you,” Matty’s assistant said.

“Who from?” asked Matty.

“Blocked number.”

Matty’s eyes narrowed. “Put it on the screen,” she said.

Murdoc’s face filled the screen at the front of the room. “Well, well, well. The BAU. I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but... it really isn’t. See, you messed up my plans. Newsflash: I don’t _like_ it when people mess up my plans. So I’m afraid I have no choice but to mess up yours. Miss Davis, Miss Garcia, you might want to take out your rigs. You’re going to need them...” The call ended.

“What was that about?” asked Jack, before the lights went out.

“Is everyone all right?” called Hotch after a moment.

A general mutter of “yeah” rose up from the assembled people. Riley’s and Garcia’s screens glowed in the darkness.

“Power’s down all over the building,” Riley said.

“Cold storage?” said Mac.

“Yeah,” said Riley. “I’ll work on getting that back up first.”

“Do it,” said Matty. “There’s no one critical in Medical right now, thankfully. After that, check the doors.”

“I’m already doing that,” said Garcia. “I can’t see what the doors are doing because they’re not connected to the network anymore. Someone put them in manual mode. I’ll work on getting those back.”

“Good,” said Matty. “Lights are a low priority right now. Will someone lock the door?”

“Already done,” said Cage.

“How did this person get in?” asked Matty.

“They might not have had to,” said Riley. “I’m picking up a signal booster on the ground floor, where we keep the packages. It’s letting the hacker get their signal past Phoenix security. They could’ve hidden it in a physical delivery.”

“The technical skill you’d need to make something like that is... you’d have to be _good_ , like, _scary_ good,” said Garcia.

“Well, that’s just great,” muttered Jack. “Mister Wackadoodle’s gone and recruited himself a hacker.”

“Not just any hacker,” said Garcia. “I recognize this signature. Riley, _please_ tell me I’m wrong.”

“I don’t think so,” said Riley. “This looks like...”

“Cha0s,” said Garcia. “Responsible for a number of _extremely_ destructive hacks, all around the world. He’ll work with anyone who pays him, has no moral compass whatsoever, and gets a kick out of creating fear and—well, chaos.”

“Awesome,” said Jack. “But you can beat this guy, right, Riley?”

“I think so,” Riley said, “but I’ll need time. And I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Much as I love a good Star Wars reference, what do you mean?”

“This hack isn’t targeting the places you’d target if the hack was the point,” Riley explained. “If Cha0s just wanted to cripple the Phoenix, he could’ve stolen data, or changed employee records. This has the look of a distraction.”

“A distraction from what?” asked Mac.

“I don’t know,” Riley replied.

...

“Okay,” said Garcia. “Cold storage is up and running, we have the doors back, all data is secure, and lights should be on in three... two...”

The lights flickered, then came to life.

The room burst into applause.

Garcia smiled. Riley looked a bit uncomfortable, but eventually started smiling as well.

Until the video call came in to her laptop.

“Put it on screen,” said Matty.

Riley did. A man’s face appeared.

“Artemis37, Weaver19. It’s good to meet you. I’ve missed you all these years. What happened? Oh, are you working for the _good_ guys now?” He laughed. “Let me guess, you got caught?” He rolled his eyes. “Losers.” He glanced around the room and took in who was in front of a laptop. “Pretty, though. Never thought you’d be pretty.”

“You shut your mouth right now,” said Jack, stepping forward, at the same time as Morgan said, “enough of this. What do you want?

Cha0s laughed. “What do I want? I want to give you some friendly advice. You might want to check the basement. Some of us have been busy. When you’re ready to bargain, call this number.” He held up a piece of paper with a phone number written on it. “The man who’s paying me, well... he said you’d know what he wanted.” The screen went dark.

“Jack, Cage,” said Matty, “Go check the basement.”

“Morgan, Prentiss, go with them,” said Hotch.

As the four left the room, Garcia caught Morgan’s hand and squeezed it.

Morgan squeezed back.

...

**PHOENIX BASEMENT**

“Shit,” breathed Jack.

He and Cage were looking at a bomb. A complicated, delicate, will-blow-up-in-your-face-if-you-look-at-it-wrong _bomb_. The timer was counting down. 15:37. 

Jack took a picture with his phone and called Mac. “Hey Mac? Yeah, there’s a bomb down here. I’m sending you a picture now. Can you diffuse that in 15 minutes?”

“No,” said Mac after a moment. “I don’t know who built this, but they were _good_. The hack must have been a distraction so Murdoc’s bomb maker could get in here. These are electronic—externally controlled. The builder could shut them down remotely, but I can’t from here. And the way that’s positioned—it’s on the structural supports of the building. If that goes off, it’ll bring the whole Phoenix down.”

Just then, Jack’s phone signaled an incoming call. “Just a second, Mac,” he said, and picked up.

“We’ve got a bomb over here,” said Prentiss.

“So have we,” said Jack. “Mac says he can’t diffuse it in the time we have.”

“Neither can Morgan,” said Prentiss. “He was Chicago PD bomb squad for a while.”

Jack’s phone signaled another incoming call, from Mac. “One second,” he told Prentiss. “Mac’s calling.” He picked up. “Yes?”

“Come up here,” said Mac. “There’s something I need to say in person, and we don’t have much time.”

“Okay,” said Jack. “What about Cage?”

“She should probably start evacuating people,” said Mac. “Get Prentiss and Morgan to help.”

“We’ll never empty the building in time,” said Cage.

“I know,” said Mac. “But hopefully that won’t be a problem.”

“I don’t know what you’re planning,” said Jack, already on his way up, “but whatever it is, I have a feeling I’m not gonna like it.”

“Oh, you’re _definitely_ not gonna like it,” said Mac.

...

**PHOENIX FOUNDATION ROOM 518C**

Jack entered the room to find all eyes on him.

“Good,” said Mac. “I only want to explain this once. Riley, you said cameras and microphones in here are down?”

“Yup.”

“Your comms,” he said. “Can they survive stomach acid?”

“...yes,” Riley said, brows furrowed, “for about an hour.”

“That should be enough time.”

“Okay, hold up, hold up,” said Jack. “I see where this is going, and I do _not_ approve of this plan! This is a shit plan!”

“You were fine with this plan in Latakia.”

“In Latakia, _I_ was the one getting captured, and it wasn’t by friggin’ _Murdoc_!”

“Look,” said Mac. “I’m the only thing we have that he wants. We give it to him, he shuts down the bombs, everyone in this building lives, you use Riley’s comm signal to track me, we find him, we arrest him, we get him back behind bars where he belongs. I’m not seeing a problem with this.”

“Yeah, except for the part where there’s a million things that could go wrong between here and there that’d mean we’d never find you, or the fact that, even if all goes well, he’ll be torturing you the whole time until we do!”

“I can take it—”

“You shouldn’t have to!”

“It’s my decision—”

“I am your Goddamned bodyguard, no it isn’t!”

“BOYS!” shouted Matty, and everyone in the room turned to look at her.

Matty took a deep breath. “Much as I hate to say this... Mac is right. This is our best shot at saving who knows how many lives, and we don’t have time to argue. If Mac is willing to do this—” she shuddered. “Let’s give Murdoc a call and tell him we’re willing to trade.”

“I am,” said Mac.

“Matty, you can’t seriously be—” Jack started to say.

“Jack, stand down,” Matty snapped. She picked up the phone. “Riley, the number?”

Riley read it off, and Matty dialed it.

Matty put the phone on speaker.

“Well hello, Matilda. I assume by now you understand your options?”

“Shut the bombs down and we’ll give you MacGyver." Her voice betrayed nothing.

“Ooh, this is hardly what I expected. Where are the... _heroics_? I suppose, people are all the same when their own necks are on the line—”

Jack took a deep breath and clenched his fists.

“And how do _you_ feel about this, Angus?”

“If it saves everyone in this building, it’s okay by me,” Mac replied.

“Oh, _there_ they are. I have enjoyed this little game of ours. So sorry it’s ending today, but I think the finish will be quite... _spectacular._ ” He paused. “Do you remember when you were a kid, and you'd be playing in your backyard, and you’d come across a spider, and you’d scoop it into your hand, take it inside, and you’d spend hours alone in your room pulling its legs off, one... by one... by one, until it can't move anymore. And-and then just when this creature's reached peak terror, you'd squish it into jelly with your thumb?”

Silence.

“Seriously? Was I the only one who did that? Anyway, MacGyver, when I finally get you alone, I am going to play with you just like I played with my spiders.”

“Shut down the bombs,” said Mac. “ _Now._ ”

“Oh, I’m afraid I can’t do that without a show of good faith,” said Murdoc. “The bombs stay active until our dear MacGyver is with me. But I will... extend the deadline. Thirty minutes? I’ll be there in twenty to collect Boy Genius. He comes with me, no tricks, no resistance, and I tell my bomber friend to call off the dogs. Anything else...” he made a noise imitating an explosion and hung up.

“We’re calling this off,” said Jack.

“We _can’t_ ,” said Mac.

“Actually,” said Reid, looking at Mac, “I think I just figured out how to keep you alive.”

“How?”

“Murdoc just told us,” said Hotch. “When you’ve been around Murdoc, have you ever shown fear? Not nervousness, or pain, or discomfort... genuine _fear?_ ”

Mac thought for a moment. “No,” he said, “I don’t think I have.”

“That’s probably why you’re still alive,” said Reid. “Murdoc hasn’t killed you yet for the same reason he drew out killing those spiders. He wants to see you afraid. That’s where his satisfaction comes from, and... you haven’t given him that. So, as long as you don’t show fear, he won’t kill you.”

“Okay,” said Mac. “So, I just... stay calm, stay alive?” he nodded. “I can do that.”

“If you get scared he’ll kill you,” said Bozer, eyes wide. “That’s reassuring.”

Mac put a hand on his shoulder. “Boze. I got this.”

Riley stood up and walked towards the door. “Are we doing this or not? ‘Cause, if we are, I need to go get ready.”

“Stop by medical,” said Reid. “Pick up a fairly high dose of a benzodiazepine—whatever you’ve got. It won’t help much—anxiolytics aren’t always helpful for real fear—but it should take the edge off.”

“I don’t need—” Mac started to say.

Matty gave him a look. “Take the damn pill, Blondie. That’s an order.”

“Okay.”

Riley left the room.

...

Mac paced the room and tried not to think about how much the next few hours were going to suck.

“Hey,” said Reid, out of the blue. “Do you like cryptograms?”

“Um... don’t do them very often, but yeah,” Mac said.

“How’s your auditory memory?”

“Pretty good.”

“Try this,” said Reid. He rattled off a string of letters.

Mac thought for a moment. Then, he laughed. “A Caesar cipher?” he said derisively. “That’s kid stuff.”

“Well, I didn’t know what you could do in your head,” said Reid. “What does it say?”

“I’m working on that.” Mac was quiet for a moment more, muttering to himself, before smiling and straightening up. “It’s the opening line of ‘Jabberwocky’.”

Reid smiled back. “Yep.”

“You thought all the nonsense words would trip me up, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, next time choose something less well-known,” said Mac.

“Will do,” said Reid. “Hey, do you think scientists will ever cool something to absolute zero?”

“We got below a nanokelvin in 2003, didn’t we?” said Mac.

“I don’t think we’ll ever quite get there, but we might get closer than we’ve gotten,” said Reid.

“I don’t know,” said Mac. “I think betting against a group of really determined humans is usually a bad idea.”

Reid smiled a bit. “You might be right there.”

Just then, Riley walked in, carrying two small cups.

“I’ve got a comm dipped in paraffin, which should help it transmit longer—”

“—nice going,” said Mac.

“—some Xanax, and some water. Murdoc should be here in about five minutes, so you might as well swallow these now.”

Mac did as instructed.

Just then, Matty’s phone rang.

She picked up. “Where do we meet you?”

“ _You_ won’t be meeting me anywhere. See, I just... don’t... _trust_ you. The brains of this little operation will be meeting me in a car a few blocks away. I’ll send directions to his phone. As soon as Mac is in my car, the bombs will be deactivated. Hurry up, Boy Scout.”

Mac held out his hand, and Matty passed him the phone. “On my way.” He hung up.

Mac took a deep breath. Then, he took off his watch, pulled his Swiss army knife out of his pocket, and handed them both to Jack. “Look after these for me, will you?”

“Yeah,” said Jack, fighting to hold back the emotions in his voice. “You’ll get them back soon, okay?”

“I know I will.”

“Hey Mac,” said Reid. “One more cryptogram. Don’t work on this one until you have to. It should take you a while.” He whispered something in Mac’s ear. “Can you remember that?”

Mac mouthed something to himself. “Yeah,” he said, “I can.”

Mac took a deep breath, looked around the room, and walked out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who spotted the surprise extra crossover, just... ignore the actor paradoxes having Leverage be in the same 'verse with MacGyver and CM brings up, 'mkay? Also, I have no idea if signal boosters of the kind I described are real things. Let's just say they are, for purposes of this fic.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody! This chapter contains canon-typical violence, some non-graphic torture, and references to canon bad parenting. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

The tracker blinked on Riley’s screen as the room held its breath.

“We can’t go after him yet,” said Matty, responding to the tension. “If Murdoc knows he’s being tailed, he could kill Mac. Or reactivate the bombs—they haven’t been properly disposed of yet.”

“Yeah, I know,” snapped Jack. “But that doesn’t mean I hate it any less.”

“We all hate it,” said Matty.

...

**MURDOC’S CAR**

**SURPRISINGLY NORMAL LOOKING**

“Well hello,” said Murdoc as Mac climbed in the passenger door. Immediately, he pressed a gun to Mac’s side. “No tricks, now. Ah-ah-ah. Phone.”

Mac dropped his phone by the side of the car.

Murdoc smiled. “Delighted you could make it.”

“Let’s just get this over with,” said Mac. If Murdoc knew he expected to survive this, it would ruin the plan.

“Oh MacGyver, you’re adorable,” Murdoc grinned. “I have no intention of doing that.”

...

**PHOENIX FOUNDATION ROOM 518C**

“Murdoc’s far enough out by now,” said Riley. “He won’t know he has a tail. I can track him from the car, let you all know where to go.”

“If we don’t leave now, we might get there too late for Mac,” said Jack.

Matty nodded. “Go get our boy.”

...

**DARK, DAMP BASEMENT**

**NOT THE BEST PLACE TO BE IF YOU NEED NOT TO BE AFRAID**

Pain—sharp pain, at least—was like a wave.

You could ride it for a while, staying just ahead of it, until it crested and brought you with it, tumbling down into the water, not knowing which way was up or how to breathe.

Then, just when it had receded to a tolerable sting, another wave came in, magnified by the effects of the ones that had come before, and the cycle started all over again.

Murdoc was smiling.

Mac wanted to clench his fists, but his hands were duct-taped to the arms of the chair in which he sat. Probably just as well.  _ Don’t show fear. _

He’d been working on Reid’s cryptogram. Reid had been right, it was challenging.

Especially since Murdoc kept messing up his concentration.

Mac had tried to keep up a string of sarcastic comments, but at this point, he’d settle for staying alive.

He wondered if it was safe to close his eyes.  _ If I don’t look scared while I do, probably... _

Mac’s eyes slid closed.

He focused on keeping his breathing deep and even, even as he felt it start to speed up and shallow out from a combination of pain and nervous anticipation that he wasn’t letting himself call fear.

Reid’s cryptogram was still tapping away at Mac’s mind, and he let it expand. He tried to block out the pain, the tug of the knife, the heat and tickle of blood running down his body; to forget Murdoc’s face, his voice, his breath as he leaned in close; to lose himself in the letters and numbers.

Another few minutes and he’d have it.

“You were more fun when we were  _ interacting _ ,” Murdoc said. “Getting tired already?”

Mac didn’t take the bait.

Instead, he slotted the last few letters into place.

YOU ARE STRONGER THAN HE IS HE CANNOT BREAK YOU HOLD ON WERE COMING

Despite everything, knowing he’d pay for it, Mac smiled.

...

**YET ANOTHER CREEPY WAREHOUSE**

**IF JACK NEVER SEES ANOTHER OF THESE IT’LL BE TOO SOON**

Jack, Cage, Riley, Prentiss, Morgan, Hotch, Reid, and the TAC team were systematically clearing the warehouse when Jack heard a soft sound.

He recognized it instantly.

Mac in pain.

Jack gestured at the nearest people—Morgan and Riley—and followed the sounds.

They led him to a door.

_ 3, 2, 1. _

Jack kicked the door down and stormed in.

Murdoc’s knife flashed.

A shot rang out.

Jack was down the stairs and across the room before Murdoc’s body fell.

“Hey, hey there, bud, it’s okay, it’s okay, I gotcha,” Jack murmured, pulling Mac’s Swiss army knife out of his pocket and using it to free Mac’s hands and legs.

As soon as Mac was free, he tried to stand up, only to collapse onto Jack, who caught him and held onto him for a moment, smoothing a hand over his back. “I gotcha.”

Morgan was politely looking away as Riley radioed to let the others know that Mac had been found and needed medical attention.

“Where’s Reid?” asked Mac, after a moment, lifting his face from where it had been buried in Jack’s shoulder.

“He’s out with everyone else who was trying to find you,” said Morgan. “Do you want me to tell him something?”

“I’d like to tell him myself, if you don’t mind.”

“I’ll go get him.”

Morgan left.

“Let’s go,” said Mac.

“You ready to handle the stairs?” asked Jack.

“I’m ready to be out of here,” Mac replied vehemently.

Jack nodded. “Up we go, then.”

At the top of the stairs, they met Morgan and Reid.

Mac looked at Reid. “I got your message,” he said. “Thank you.”

“I know it doesn’t help much—”

“It helped.”

“I’m glad.” Reid looked at Jack. “I heard the shot. Is Murdoc dead?”

“He’d better be, ‘cause I shot him in the head.”

Reid and Morgan nodded.

Just then, the medics arrived.

“I need to call Matty,” said Jack. “Tell her what happened. You need anything, you let me know, okay?”

“Okay,” Mac replied softly.

Jack pressed Matty’s number on his phone. “Good news! Mac’s alive and Murdoc’s dead.” Pause. “Of course I shot him, what do you think, he just dropped dead of the measles?” Another pause. “Yes he was armed, and I am insulted that—no, I am not coming in to fill out an incident report today  _ or _ tomorrow, Mac’s hurt and I’m staying with him! I can fill one out from home.” More silence. “Thank you.” Jack lowered the phone.

Meanwhile, Riley was trying, with mixed success, not to hover. Cage had checked in and then found other things to do, so as to avoid being smothering. Jack, however, was back at Mac’s side the second he was done with the call.

“Hey,” said Jack. “Don’t you ever come up with a plan like that again, you hear me?”

“No promises,” Mac muttered.

Jack laughed, a short, tired sound. “Yeah, I know.”

...

**PHOENIX FOUNDATION**

**SOMEWHERE IN LOS ANGELES**

Cage, Matty, and Riley stood in front of the Phoenix building, near the assembled BAU. (Jack and Bozer were in Phoenix medical with Mac.)

“We came to say goodbye,” said Cage.

“And thank you,” said Matty. “The Phoenix will continue investigating the identity of the bomb maker and attempting to track Cha0s, but overall... this was a win. Henry Fletcher has been brought into custody, Murdoc is no longer a threat, and MacGyver is expected to make a full recovery.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” said Hotch.

“It was really great to meet you,” said Garcia, walking up to Riley and holding out her arms. “Stay in touch?”

“Yeah,” Riley said with a smile, stepping into Garcia’s hug.

After a moment, Garcia went to join her team. 

The BAU started to walk away.

Then, Prentiss stopped.

“Wait,” she said. “Cage. We’re not working together right now, are we?”

Cage smiled. “No.”

Prentiss took a deep breath, looked around at her assembled coworkers, walked over to Cage, and slowly leaned in.

Cage closed the distance, putting a hand in Prentiss’s hair as their mouths met.

“About damn time,” whispered Morgan.

“ _ Yeah, _ ” JJ whispered back.

“Would it be rude to start applauding?” asked Reid.

“Yes,” Garcia replied firmly.

Hotch smiled.

After a moment, Prentiss and Cage broke apart.

“If you’re ever in LA again,” said Cage, “And you’re not busy... I know, when is  _ that _ ever gonna happen, but, if it does... call me?”

“I will.” She gave a slight smile. “And same goes for you if you ever find yourself not busy in the neighborhood of Quantico.”

“Understood,” Cage replied.

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.” Cage waved as Prentiss went to join her team.

Morgan and JJ each put an arm around her shoulders, smiling knowingly.

“So... how long have you guys known?” asked Prentiss.

“Ten years, ten months, and twenty-nine days,” Reid piped up.

“As long as we’ve known you,” JJ clarified unnecessarily.

Prentiss sighed. “Great.”

“Hey,” said Morgan. “We’re proud of you.”

After a pause, Prentiss side-eyed him. “So, I’m told you’ve been trying to set me up with people behind my back?”

“Don’t try to tell me you don’t need a wingman,” Morgan replied.

They walked to the cars that way, laughing and joking.

The smile didn’t leave Prentiss’s face until well after they’d driven away.

...

**MAC’S HOUSE**

**ONE WEEK LATER**

Mac took a deep breath.

The agents of the Phoenix and the BAU had exchanged contact information, just in case. He didn’t know if it was supposed to be used for personal things, but... he needed this.

He pressed Reid’s number, and Reid picked up. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Mac said. “I wanted to ask you a favor.”

“Sure,” said Reid. “What do you need?”

“Well... it’s not exactly something I  _ need _ , but... do you remember that watch I have? That I gave to Jack for safekeeping when...” he trailed off.

“Yeah, I remember it,” said Reid. “I wanted to ask you about it, but I didn’t get the chance.”

“Well, it was my dad’s. He walked out on me when I was ten, after my mom died—my grandfather raised me after that. He hasn’t contacted me since—but lately, I think he’s been leaving me clues. Little things that’ll help me find him. This watch—it’s part of that. And... I don’t know if I’ll ever find him, or... what I’ll find if I do, but I have to try. I just... need some answers, you know?”

“I do know,” said Reid.

“And I thought... maybe, since you’re a profiler, you could help me figure out where my dad is?”

“I’ll try,” said Reid, “but let me tell you something first.”

“Okay,” Mac replied cautiously.

““My dad left me when I was ten, too. He never contacted me again. I still had my mom, at least, and... she did her best...”

Mac sensed that there was a story there, but didn’t press.

“But later, I found out that he’d been living in the same city as me. All along. And he’d never contacted me, not one phone call, not one visit, not one letter, nothing. He’d been—cyber-stalking me, I don’t know, tracking what I was doing, but he never  _ talked _ to me.”

“Ouch,” said Mac.

“And when I met him again, I was so angry. And my friends kept telling me that he was my dad, that I should forgive him, but I just thought, what do you know?”

Mac was silent.

“And I did forgive him, a little. I’m not as angry as I was, at least. But I talked to him that once, and I haven’t since.”

There was a moment of quiet, before Reid continued.

“So I guess what I’m trying to say is... when you do find your dad, don’t let anyone else tell you how to feel. You can feel however you want.”

Mac processed that for a moment. Then, in a small voice, he asked, “did you ever find out why?”

“I did,” said Reid. “But you should give up, right now, on the idea that there’s going to be a good enough reason. There never will be.” He paused. “You say your dad’s been leaving you clues? He knows where you are and he hasn’t just contacted you?”

“Everything’s a test with my dad,” said Mac. “When I asked for a computer, he gave me two college-level books on how to build my own. If I want to see him, I’m going to have to earn it.”

Reid kept his initial reaction—which was something along the lines of  _ that is INCREDIBLY messed up _ —to himself. Instead, he said, “A lot of times people like us get told our worth depends on what we can do.”

Mac laughed, short and sharp. “Are you trying to psychoanalyze me?”

“Technically, I’m working more from a humanistic tradition. Does it help that I’m doing the same thing to myself?”

“Not really.”

“Okay, I’ll stop,” said Reid.

There was a moment of dead air on the line.

Finally, Mac spoke. “So, after you talked to your dad, you just... let it go? You talked to him once and that was it?”

Based on Reid’s voice, Mac suspected he was smiling. “I didn’t need him. I have all the family I could ever want in my team, people who actually care about me. Why would I need anything else?”

Mac thought for a moment.

“Thank you,” he finally said.

“Do you still want me to help you find your dad?”

“If I do I’ll call you back, but... right now I think I’m good.”

“Bye,” said Reid.

“Bye,” said Mac, and hung up.

Mac took off his father’s watch and carefully placed it behind a picture on the mantle.

The picture was of himself, Bozer, and Riley. Jack had taken it.

Mac picked up the phone again.

“Hey Jack? Do you want to come over tonight? Yeah, I’m gonna invite everybody...”

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I've had so much fun writing this--it's the longest thing I've ever written, and only the third thing I've written to have an actual plot. I've had this crossover in my head for months, and had some scenes sketched out for nearly as long, but only recently did I realize that I was actually going to be able to get this all down on paper, and what a gift it has been to be able to do that. 
> 
> And now, completely unsolicited, I'm going to give you all a look into what I think happens in the future of this 'verse. Feel free to skip if you want, but if you're curious, read on.
> 
> Garcia and Riley stay friends. They call each other up to talk about anything from "how was your day?" to "one of my people is in the hospital again and I hate this job" to "yeah, I'm on a clock and could use some remote hacking support, could you give me a hand here?" (Multiple people owe their lives to this arrangement.)
> 
> Once, on a slow day, Mac sends Reid an encrypted letter. Reid responds in kind. They become encrypted-letter pen pals.
> 
> Prentiss starts actually dating. Eventually, she finds a woman who's willing to work with both her schedule and her commitment issues. They never live together, both because of said schedule and commitment issues and because the other woman's job keeps her pretty busy as well, but they both cherish what they have.
> 
> Because Murdoc is dead, Cage gets to stay and becomes a permanent fixture of the team. Furthermore, that awful thing that happened in 3x01 (phrasing it that way to avoid spoilers for anyone who hasn't gotten there) does not happen.
> 
> Mac still finds out the truth about his dad, but there's a lot less stress along the way. For everyone involved.
> 
> Okay, that's that! Best!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it! If you did, please let me know below!


End file.
